Best Friends
by dean hasseloff
Summary: Dean and Alistair were best friends once.


A/N: Missing scene from 4x16 "On the Head of a Pin". Dean tortures Alistair, Alistair reminds Dean they were best friends once. I may write this again someday.

Disclaimer: You know I own nothing.

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"Let's see if we... can't tie you back together, shall we?"

Dean clicked the inside of his mouth, then moved to his table of torture toys. "You're going to be disappointed."

"You have not disappointed me yet, grasshopper."

Alistair was right. Downstairs, he used to remind Dean everyday how proud he was of him, how perfect for this job Dean was. He was a born natural. Alistair knew it, and Dean knew it too.

"You do remember, how proud you made me, dontcha Dean?" Alistair said to his back. Dean ingored him. He did remember.

"Your ole' buddy... me? It brought joy to my non-existant heart." Alistair slurred a whispery chuckle.

Dean glanced over at him, his eyes burning with something greater than hate. "You are not my friend." He stabbed at Alistair verbally, his voice scratchy and grim.

Alistair made a face. "Oh," he began hurtly, "growing up means growing apart, huh?"

Dean went tended back to the table, pouring salt into the holy water, sloshing around the bottle, making it all dissolved nicely together. He ingored Alistair once again. He did remember.

"You know, I tired to bond with yer daddy, but him and I... didn't have the chemistry like we did, Dean." Alistair leaned back his head, his eyes adjusting to the dim white light that hung above him. "Good thing too. To be honest, he wasnt much fun." He made another face.

"My dad's not an idiot." Dean spoke up, never looking at Alistair. "He wouldn't befriend a demon, dead or alive."

Alistair's smirk widend into a smile, baring yellow and crooked teeth. His clamy face pale and icy under the chalky light. He looked up.

"So you've called yourself an idiot." he said slowly, "not surprising. I mean, afterall, you did sell your soul, how much self-esteem could you possibly have?" Alistair joked grimly.

Dean remembered the deal he made, but only for a second. He wouldn't get Alistair get to him, not again.

"Got a big ole' hole inside ya... I'm so happy you filled it up with me."

Dean wanted to rip him apart. He wanted to kill him a thousand times over, but he knew he couldn't. He knew the angels would be on his ass instantly, and they were amoung the last things he wanted to deal with at the moment. Dean clutched his teeth together, making soft grinding noises under the pressure of his jaw.

Alistair knew how right he was. Dean knew how right he was. Dean has a hole inside of him, always has. He actually saw it in Hell, Alistair showed him, how big and black it was. 'Like cancer in the lungs' Alistair described it as. It circled inside Dean like a dark hurricane, spinning around and around. It was ugly, and Dean hated looking down at it. Now he was in the pit, what could he lose? He could do anything now, and never again would he have to have another consequence.

And then, after Dean picked up the blade, Alistair and him bonded like brothers. Like best friends, slicing into every soul handed to them. Their favourite pass time (that they had decided on together) was carving up cute girls, and they'd laugh and laugh with blood smeared on their faces and spilled on their hands. Like brothers, like best friends.

They were best friends, and Dean knew it. Dean remembered how amazing it felt to feel his hole shrink as he filled it with Alistair. It was like falling in love. It didn't feel like Hell anymore, it felt like home. Alistair reminded him once in a while that once every speck of Dean's humanity was gone, they'll be really and truly brothers, and Dean couldn't wait.

Dean turned away, hiding the memories that showed in his face.

"But, enough of the old days. You hate me, and to be honest, I could be a little angry with you," Alistair rolled his head, then looked forward.

"Come on, you've gotta want a little pay back for every little thing I did to you."

Dean continued playing with the holy water. He never looked up. He had to stop thinking about Hell, and think about now. He had to, not just think, but focus on breaking Alistair. Dean had to crack him open, and find out whose killing the angels. Not because he wanted to help, he could give a rat's ass anymore.

It's because if he serves God, maybe that way, his sins will be forgiven, and he'll be admitting into Heaven. He'll be saved, spending eternity in God's territory, befriending angels rather than demons.


End file.
